That voice inside me
by AShadowsKiss
Summary: How long had he been alone inside his own head? How many years had he been fighting for control over his own body? How long had he been waiting for death to take him, just so it could end? -- slight CxS


Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of its characters.

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There he was, looking all high and mighty and powerful and strong and dangerous and more beautiful then ever before. He was like a God among humans, only better, because he actually was human. He was better then any God anyone ever heard off, stronger and taller. That God among humans was a piece of art in every sense. From his toes to the top of his head, there was no flaw. He was perfection impersonated. He was God, he was everything, he could have everything in the world, all he had to do was ask.

That man, that God, that defined creature whom he loved so incredibly much, had gone insane. The incredible control the man once had, he had no more. How many years had past, since the last time that God had smiled? How long had he been alone inside his own head? How many years had he been fighting for control over his own body? How long had he been waiting for death to take him, just so it could end?

He felt pleasure nor pain, happiness nor sorrow, love nor hate. He was empty on the inside, all that was left, was this voice, raging inside his mind. That voice, had it been there always? Had he always been like this? Had he always been nothing but a puppet to an existence that merely existed out of a voice? He had no memories, no feelings. There was just emptiness inside his mind, inside his soul. Only… there was that small ticklish feeling, that ithing/i that the voice could not reach. It was, warm. It was perfect. It was small but strong and stubborn. It was everything the God among humans was not.

For years that small something had been deep inside of him, hidden by layers of darkness and false promises of the voice. Now, it practically burned him from the inside. Why was this? Why was he hurting so? Was it even hurt he felt? He didn't know, couldn't understand. Only that voice, always that voice. Raging inside his mind; screaming and forcing him to move. Forcing him to attack everything he saw, forcing him to hurt humans and animals alike. Why was he doing this? What good would this do? What purpose served this killing spree?

That voice inside of him, it wasn't actually himself, right? It couldn't be… it couldn't be that he was telling himself to kill, to tear, to rip, to smash, to ihurt/i. Right? Why in the world would he do that? Why would he push himself to the deepest and darkest corners of his own mind? To escape that voice was the easiest answer really… not that it worked or anything, the voice was everywhere he was. It surrounded him, punished him and pushed him around. The voice inside his head was the one who hurt others, while all he could do was watch.

Why was that voice yelling right now? Why was it forcing the muscles in his arms and hands to grab that sword again? Why were his legs running towards an opponent he could not see? It had been so long since the last time he saw… He could hear voices, he didn't know what they said but he heard them, from the outside. Who was there? Who was yelling and screaming and crying? Who was hurting ihim/i?

It did hurt, it hurt very much actually. It was like he was torn up from the inside out, his organs, one by one being ripped apart and pieced together only to be ripped apart again. Why was he letting them hurt him? Why was that voice not defending them?! It sounded so weak right now, that stupid ugly voice. The voices on the outside, they were growing. How many others were out there? There was only one he could hear clearly and understand. The voice was demanding and strong. It yelled at those other voices to get away, to leave this place and not return no matter what. What was that voice going to do?

He fought. For the first time in days, weeks, months, iyears/i, he fought back. He fought for the control over his mind, to be able to see. The voice was still standing strong inside his head. It took so long for him to win, for him to be able to control his limbs and his eyes and his mind and his very soul that all the while the little outside voice had been attacking him. Now he could feel the pain again, feel it as it should feel. Raw and burning and begging for revenge. Who was he to deny such a request from his own body? Especially after it had been so long since the last time they had been together, since the last time his body and soul had joined forces, and attacked.

He glanced around the room, reading the sword in his hands, waiting for an opening in his enemy's defense. At least, until he saw who his enemy was. The tiny thing in his chest, that tiny flame where his heart was supposed to be, burned brighter with every passing second. That man in front of him, his enemy… it had been so long since their last meeting. His enemy… his…

"Cloud?"

His voice! He had a voice! It croaked and sounded rough and mean and so very much unlike him, unlike how he felt right now. His enemy, Cloud, looked up at him, tears in his eyes. Were there tears in his eyes too? He didn't know, couldn't feel anything but the flame in his chest. Cloud, he had grown, so much. How long had it been? More importantly, why was his Cloud crying? Who had hurted him so?

Memories, so many memories of pain and fear caused by none other then himself, all involving Cloud, crashed over him. Nibelheim; burning. Family and friends; all killed. Zack's girlfriend; dead. So much pain, all those things he had done to Cloud, it all washed over him, leaving him bare and bleeding. Cloud only stood there, sword in hand, tears in his eyes and down his cheeks but a firm determination he had never seen before. Then he knew. He was to die, right here, right now, by the hands of the man he loved the most. He was ready, he was waiting, and he wasn't even going to pretend to defend himself.

He didn't react, didn't step aside as Cloud charged at him and pushed the sharp blade through his body. He fell down on the floor, was immediately caught by Cloud's warm arms and held tightly. He could feel tears on his face now, but they weren't his. Cloud cried for him as he died ever so slowly. The voice in his head, Jenova, and the mako in his blood, it all willed him to stay, as he got ready to leave.

There was a new voice in his head, two actually. Two gentle and soft voices, which gently took his hands and pulled him up, brought him into a green world. He turned back around once more, stared down at his now completely empty body and Cloud's broken form next to him. He was still crying, probably wouldn't stop either for a long time.

"Goodbye, Cloud."


End file.
